Call number 973.782 H894b 1904 (Davis Library, UNC-CH)

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A BOY'S EXPERIENCE
IN THE
CIVIL WAR 1860-1865

During the Civil War.

My father, a skillful physician by profession, was by taste and
inclination a controversal
writer, a contributor to the
newspapers, mixing up in the stir of the times. Before the Civil
War his energy was devoted to a large and lucrative practice
coupled with activities, social and political. At the opening of the
struggle between the North and South his sympathies and
associations ardently enlisted him in the fortunes of his native
State, and he furthered by writing and personal work the
adoption of the ordinance of secession which had been referred
by the State Convention at Richmond to the Citizens of Virginia
to adopt or reject. When the State seceded his ardent advocacy
of the Southern cause and his labor in that behalf quickly brought
him to the point of either taking the oath of allegiance as a loyal
citizen of the United States or submitting to imprisonment. He
declined the oath and was sent as a political prisoner in the
spring of 1862 to Camp Chase near Columbus, Ohio, where he
remained for nine months, when a special exchange was secured
for him. This latter event he owed to a personal circumstance,
one of those matters he usually evidenced an aptitude to turn to
account. It occurred thus: one day a number of prisoners
recently captured were brought in, and he learned that shortly
before, the command to which they had belonged had taken a
number of Union prisoners, and among them a brother of Dr.
Pancost of Philadelphia. My father who had pursued his medical
studies at Philadelphia and had been a student under Dr. Pancost
at the Jefferson Medical College wrote to his former instructor,
telling him of his brother's capture and asking him to secure a
special exchange of my father for his brother. This he
accomplished and through friends my father was extended
Page 2

permission to have his wife and three of his children accompany him
by flag of truce through the lines to Richmond. Ample time was
allowed him to arrange his affairs for this and he was further
permitted to take unlimited baggage. Our route was to Baltimore,
to Fortress Monroe, to City Point, Petersburg and Richmond.
Baltimore was reached between three and four o'clock in the
morning and upon the recommendation of a fellow passenger we
sought quarters at the Eutaw House. This hotel, then as now at the
northwest corner of Eutaw and Baltimore Streets, was found
crowded and we located in the parlor until later in the day a room
was assigned us overlooking the court on Eutaw Street. A
circumstance to impress was the crowded condition of the
pavement extending from Eutaw Street to Calvert far in excess of
what now exists after the lapse of over forty years, thus indicating
the inrush here as the border city of the Civil War. The day our
trunks were to be examined Major Constable, the provost
marshall of the city was a guest at a dinner party given by my
father at Barnum's Hotel to which latter we had immediately
removed, being told by our Baltimore friends that the Eutaw
House was a hotel patronized by officers of the Northern army,
whereas Barnum's was a Southern Hotel. On the day succeeding
the search of our baggage we left our hotel where we had
remained about two weeks preparing for the trip South, and were
driven in a carriage to the wharf of the boat for Fortress Monroe.
Some informality attending the baggage required us to return until
the succeeding day. It appears that some official undertook to
claim the baggage had not been examined, notwithstanding the red
connecting tape with the seal of the provost marshall's ring in red
wax at each end and it became necessary to have Major
Constable straighten out the matter, which fixed us to leave the
next evening. One of those heavy storms that occur on the
Chesapeake Bay, with an alarm of fire on the boat were incidents
of the trip, and General George H. Thomas of the Union Army
who was

a passenger and my father became acquainted with the result that
the former's influence was utilized to secure more pleasant
accommodations on the flag of truce boat. The boats composing
the flag of truce were three in number with only one, that carrying
our family, carrying prisoners, all of whom were invalids, most of
them suffering from wounds, some of them of a most frightful
character. It seems unaccountable that those men in their condition
should have been sent on a trip to occupy two days and two nights
without either surgeon or nurses. My father was called upon to
dress the wounds of several, one of whom markedly attracted my
attention by the fact that his entire back seemed to have been shot
away. Another, a young man about nineteen had his right arm and
hand paralyzed. There were perhaps a hundred prisoners, all
invalids. We started from Fortress Monroe in the morning and
about dark reached Harrison's Landing where we anchored for the
night, it being inexpedient to travel except by day when our mission
as a flag of truce could be observed. The three boats being
brought together the evening was spent by the crew of the centre
boat giving a theatrical entertainment to which all were invited. The
performance simple, but amusing, consisted of a man who was
supposed to be ignorant but shrewd, being accosted by the
questionable people of the city he was visiting, in an effort to both
rob him and have fun with him. As it was purely original and played
by people who were likely portraying personal experiences, it was
both intensely real and intensely amusing. The next evening we
reached City Point after dark and the following morning in looking
out my state room window I was delighted and elated at seeing
away up on the bank alongside a frame house a Confederate
soldier with gun doing picket duty. So constantly had I been thrown
with Union soldiers and had only seen Confederates as prisoners
of war that to see a Confederate soldier free and in arms doing
duty on Confederate soil was like a haven long sought for. The
train of two

passenger coaches with an antiquated engine had brought down from
Petersburg a large number of people evidently attracted by
curiosity and a number collected on shore around the gang plank
and exchanged newspapers with those on board the boats. The
large quantity of baggage we carried quickly brought us trouble,
for twelve trunks and a large chest for a family of two adults and
three children at a time when one traveling by a flag of truce
carried his baggage in his hand, excited suspicion and upon our
arrival at Petersburg we were directed to there discontinue our
trip to Richmond and my father was required to report daily to
General Colston until his status as a loyal Southern citizen could
be established. The Bollingbrook Hotel where we located was
overflowing with Confederate officers, and after three days spent
there and after word being sent from my father's friends among
them his cousin Jefferson T. Marten, Confederate States Marshall
for Virginia and Charles W. Russell of the Confederate House of
Representatives that if Dr. Hughes was not loyal no one was, we
were permitted to proceed to our destination. I was impressed
with the conviction that Gen. Colston's action was merely from
abundant caution, for the friendly spirit shown my father and the
abundant good humor indicated that there was no real belief that
all was not right, but that the circumstances required examination
and explaining before we could be allowed to pass. A short ride
soon brought our train to the long high bridge over the James
River and as it crossed the bridge we got our first view of what
was then wonderfully bustling Richmond with streets so crowded
that Main Street from Eighth to Thirteenth on both sides was
sometimes almost impassible, in marked contrast some years
subsequent to the close of the war when on one business day
during the busy hour of the day I once looked over the same
stretch and counted in the entire length but three people. A
rattling, uncomfortable omnibus carried us to the Ballard House,
where we remained some weeks.

This hotel, perhaps the best in Richmond, was in curious contrast
to Barnum's in Baltimore; at the latter every delicacy was
furnished in abundance - at the Ballard House the dessert for
dinner for instance consisted usually of rice pudding and apple
pie, the balance of the menu and the balance of the meals were
on the same scale. At this period there was only one other hotel
in Richmond its equal, the Spottswood at Main and Eighth
burned about a year after the war, and two more not so good,
the American on Main Street opposite the post office destroyed
by the fire when Richmond was evacuated, and the Powhatan on
Eleventh opposite the Capitol Square and known after the war
as Ford's Capitol Hotel. The Exchange Hotel was then closed.
At that time gold was worth about one dollar for three of
Confederate. In 1864 and 1865 it was worth one for sixty or
seventy Confederate and board at the Spattswood was then
about seventy dollars a day. Bread was worth a dollar a loaf, a
large ginger cake cost a dollar and a pie cost a dollar, curious
disproportions.

An incident illustrative of a poltical canvass among soldiers
was one of the occurrences that soon attracted my attention An
election for Confederate congressman for the District of Virginia,
which now comprises a part of the State of West Virginia was
under way; the candidates were Charles W. Russell formerly of
Wheeling and a Dr. Kidwell of, I believe, Clarksburg. The
district was entirely in the Union lines and hence the only voters
were Confederate soldiers and refugees. Dr. Kidwell had
headquarters at the Ballard House in a room opening
immediately on the ladies' entrance on Franklin Street at the
corner of Thirteenth and it was an occasion to make one cheerful
to see the Doctor who was tall and slender smilingly dispense
good cheer from numerous decanters to the many refugees and a
few soldiers who sought him. Mr. Russell also boarded at the
same hotel, but he evidently felt pretty secure, as he made no
effort to entertain and his room was on the upper floor. This
canvass was

in marked contrast with another that went on near the same time
at the Powhatan. An election for the State Legislature was near
and the candidates from the legislative districts in what is now
West Virginia met the same conditions, namely, their territory
was exclusively in the Union lines and the voters were refugees
and soldiers. Several of the candidates boarded at the Powhatan
and the meetings in the Congressional candidates room that
were more formal by reasons of the callers being from divers
sections, now in the case of the Legislative candidates became
more sociable and nightly refugees and soldiers from the same
local section assembled and intensely enjoyed the gossip that
went on in a dense cloud of smoke from tobacco pipes.

My father was a candidate for some medical position in the
gift of the President and by appointment he was taken
accompanied by me to call upon Mr. Davis. The President's
office was on the second floor of the post office building entering
from Bank Street, the street in the rear of Main Street, and on
the right side of the hall. My father took with him for
presentation to the President a curiously carved cane that had
been constructed by one of the prisoners at Camp Chase.
Constructing articles of this sort being the way prisoners passed
their time. This particular cane was made of pine wood, had
winding serpents carved along it and was varnished a dark,
brown bright color. In the entree room was only the President's
secretary and no others. When we were ushered into the
President's room we found him alone. He was standing in the
center of the room and remained standing during the short
interview which lasted about five minutes, he did little talking,
most of it being done by my father, he had a natural, pleasant
manner and gave close attention to what was said to him and
was apparently ignorant of my presence. I was only a little boy
twelve years of age. He was a small, delicate, but active man
dressed entirely in black, and one day after the war I saw him as
I believe

walking on Baltimore Street in Baltimore, looking exactly as I
had seen him that day in his office in Richmond, except that he
no longer had the air of concentration shown at our interview. It
was rather a mystery to me how my father, a homeopathic
physician, expected to obtain a prominent medical position in
the Government when allopathic physicians alone held sway and
homeopathy was unknown, but as he usually managed to get
what he wanted and I never made comments I said nothing,
although my notion turned out to be correct.

Homeopathy was not very extensively known in Richmond, a
few years before a physician of that school who had been
located there had left and from him or some member of his family
my father obtained a list of his former patients He formed the
acquaintance of several and his journalistic relations formed in
past years as a cantributor
to the newspapers led him to
look to
the Richmond papers for help, so that most of the papers were
of great service to him. The Examiner had an elaborate editorial
on the subject of Homeopathy. The Enquirer, the Dispatch and
the Whig also contained flattering notices and Mr. Ritchie of the
Enquirer, Mr. Coworden and Mr. Ellison of the Dispatch and
Mr. Alexander Mosely of the Whig became his patients, as did
also Mr. Smith of the Sentinel when that paper was subsequently
established, so that the associations he thus formed, together
with his being elected to the Legislature to represent Ohio county
in the Virginia House of Delegates enabled him to keep his family
in comfort. The latter office gave him many privileges. For
instance my shoes were gotten at the Penitentiary whose
superintendent Mr. Knote was a constituent of my father, and
most nice fitting shoes they were. He had passes over all the
railroads and his trips were both pleasant and productive of
luxuries for at a time when coffee was made of corn meal rolled
in sorghum molasses, roasted and ground, and the only cloth was
homespun and tea was about non-existent as also loaf sugar,

indeed everything reduced to the simplest, the rations of the
soldiers for instance being nearly exclusively cornmeal and
bacon, a trip of my father to Wilmington, North Carolina, led
him to visit a blockade runner from Nassau, the steamer Hansa,
and when the captain ascertained who he was, and through him
he could obtain an introduction to the President and others in
authority at Richmond, a shipment was received at our house
from this ship of a bag of coffee, a box of tea, a barrel of loaf
sugar and cloth for suits of clothes and toys for the children. It
should be added that my father's skill as a physician quickly
became recognized and his practice had extended to the families
of those occupying the highest official positions under the
Government. Upon another occasion on one of his trips he had
obtained under some advantageous arrangement a large amount
of flour. This he determined to sell and one evening he sold it to
a baker on Broad Street and the very large amount of money
paid in bulky bills, he, out of apprehension for the garoters that
infested Richmond at this time, concealed under my coat around
my person, knowing there was slight danger of any attempt to
rob a young boy with ostensibly nothing to take from him. The
comparative luxury which we were enabled to enjoy was
participated in by my father's constituents, for the Confederate
soldier from our district when visiting Richmond on furlough was
welcomed and entertained so that this period of my life is one
that I look back upon more than any other as the most pleasant
and enjoyable. To what a simple basis living had been reduced it
may be noted that instead of candles long wax tapers wound
around in pyramid shapes were used, sorghum molasses, black
eye peas and bacon and cabbage and potatoes and cornmeal
were the staples. Flour bread was rather a luxury. There were
two principal confectionery stores: Pisani on Broad Street near
10th and Antoni on Main Street near 9th, but the scant array in
each was in sad contrast to the luxury now found in any first
class confectionery, at the

former one could get a saucer of ice cream, at the last a glass of
jelly. The scarcity of food and narrowness of range was in great
contrast to the vast number of people on the streets. On Main
Street from the Spottswood Hotel at 8th down to 13th Street
near where the Examiner and the Whig newspapers were
located was a dense stream of people on each side, mostly
officers in uniform, for the private was sure to be stopped by the
provost guard that paraded up and down the sidewalk looking
for soldiers who were away without leave.

Free newspapers were another perquisite of legislators,
except they must send for them and my mission was to attend in
12th Street at the newspaper offices early each morning among
the crowd assembled there waiting the distribution of the papers
of which four: the Dispatch, Examiner, Whig and Sentinel were
in the immediate vicinity and the fifth the Enquirer around on the
other side of Main Street. It was upon one of these occasions
that I witnessed a memorable funeral of a soldier, Lieutenant
Noah Walker, whose home was in Baltimore who had been
recently killed in an engagement, his head having been, it was
stated completely destroyed and the Maryland friends in
Richmond had been requested to assemble early one morning at
a warehouse opposite the Examiner office at his funeral service.
There were not many who came, probably twenty. It was
pathetic to observe the concern and silent regard that each one
manifested as strangers in a strange city away from their home
and friends doing homage to the memory of one who possessed
an amiable, gentle nature that attached all who knew him. The
occasion particularly appealed to me when told who he was, as
this gentleman when we first arrived in Richmond and when our
straightened circumstances required us to live all in one room
had been a guest at one of our breakfasts, which consisted of
rolls and breakfast bacon broiled by my father on the open fire
of the room and which we all deliciously enjoyed. The
Marylanders and

especially Baltimoreans were particularly attentive in observance
of respect for their compatriots and the funeral of Lieutenant
Walker was very much like that which took place at St. James
Church of Gen'l. Dimmock, the same assemblage of serious
visaged men, who indicated in their appearance that they were
strangers away from home and familiar associations and with an
earnest concern for the occasion and for each other. These
experiences that appeal to Marylanders were in contrast to
another when General Pegram was married in St. Paul's Church
to Miss Hetty Carey of Baltimore. Gen'l. Pegram in full
Confederate uniform and with sword at his side was
accompanied by Miss Carey, entering the church together. She
wore over her dress a heavy sash of red, white and red hanging
over the right shoulder and falling down below the waist on the
left side. There was no appearance of strangeness there and no
air of constraint and all was great joyous expectancy and full of
life. Miss Carey was one of the belles of Richmond and
consequently the church was crowded. I stood in the vestibule
next to the inner door and as the two passed the scene was in
marked contrast to the sad sequel very soon to occur when
Gen'l. Pegram lost his life in battle.

Another circumstance of my father's life as a legislator was
the opportunity afforded me of seeing and knowing the
prominent persons connected with both the Confederate and
State governments and I soon formed the acquaintance of
almost every one in the State House. I had the free run of the
entire Capitol and was very much aided in this by being taken
from the private school I was attending, Mr. Alfriend's, who
afterwards was the author of the life of President Davis, and
placed under a private tutor Mr. Burrell, a very old gentleman
employed as a clerk in the Auditor's Office in the Capitol. I do
not know whether the Capitol presents the same appearance
now as then, when the Legislature is in session, but then around
the rotunda was stretched a circle of peanut stands, eight or

ten in number and the floor was strewn with peanut shells,
tobacco juice and dirt and no one seemed to object. On the
side facing towards Broad Street on the first floor over the
basement was the House of Delegates, in the room over this
was the State Senate; opposite the House of Delegates across
the rotunda was the Confederate House of Representatives and
in the room above was the State Library.

Free access to the Capitol gave me the opportunity to
observe minutely the funeral arrangements for General Thomas
J. Jackson. Stonewall Jackson's remains were brought to
Richmond to lie in state in the Capitol preparatory to his funeral.
And they arrived late one evening and were first deposited in a
little room on the left of the entrance to the Capitol on the side
next to the Governor's house. The burial casket was placed on a
bier, uncovered, and the custodian of the Capitol permitted a
favored few including myself to view the remains. The coffin had
evergreen heavily intertwined around it. There were no flowers.
His face was exactly as appears in his photographs, except it
was thinner, the features were perfectly placid, not evidencing
that he had suffered pain, his whiskers and mustache were of
unusual thickness, his forehead high and his hair coal black. I
brought a small portion of the evergreen on the casket away
with me. After lying in state when his funeral took place the
cortege was preceded by a brass band that played a funeral
dirge; the horse that General Jackson rode with General
Jackson's boots hanging down one on each side of his saddle
came next to the hearse and was led by his body servant. The
funeral was impressive as only such a one could be.

The Capitol and grounds were the center for interesting
occurrences. The second inauguration of Mr. Davis as President
of the Confederacy took place in front of Washington's
monument situated near the entrance to the grounds from Grace
Street. The ceremony was on the side facing the Capitol and a
dense concourse of people

extended from that point almost to the Capitol building. I was on
the outskirts of this crowd and could only see the outline of the
figures of the participants in the ceremony.

On another occasion Gen'l. Henry A. Wise, ex-governor of the
State, who was levantly called "fire eater" was to make a speech
in the hall of the House of Delegates. His popularity and general
interest to hear him was evidenced by an assemblage that
became so dense that an unusual expedient was adopted, namely,
an adjournment was had to the same point from which Mr. Davis
was inaugurated and when the speaker with the crowd assembled
reached the monument a rain came up so that he was obliged to
return, a large number of persons having quit because of the rain,
thereby leaving the room comfortably filled. His slender spare
frame, almost haggard countenance and shrill voice, all of
themselves rendered him a spectacular speaker and his eloquence
directed immediately to you made him an interesting speaker.

A curious occurrence took place daily in Capitol Square in the
morning before breakfast. A company of decrepit old men, all I
think without exception were thus, assembled on the broad walk
along the Capitol facing Capitol Street to drill as soldiers. The only
striking quality about them was their evident inability for service
from old age and yet the cheerfulness and zeal with which they
handled their muskets and went through simple evolutions
evidenced a spirit unconscious of non utility. This company shortly
before Richmond was evacuated was succeeded at the same
place and at the same time daily by an equally curious assemblage
and that was a company of negroes, intended to form the embryo
negro troops for the Confederate army. I have heard it often
declared that no negro troops were ever enlisted on the Southern
side. For a considerable time before the war ended the enlistment
of negroes as troops was earnestly deliberated and the efforts in
this direction in the Virginia Legislature led to the formation of this
Company of State troops. My father as a

member of the Legislature warmly advocated the enlistment of
negroes, having made an elaborate argument in the House of
Delegates for that purpose.

This company of negroes comprised about fifty or sixty men,
about 25 or 30 years of age, were almost entirely dark mulattoes,
wore no uniforms, indeed few soldiers in the Confederacy wore
uniforms except the officers and most of theirs were shabby and
old. The striking peculiarity about this negro company was one
that had appeared to possess the company of old men, namely
that while evidencing interest in their drill it appeared to be for
only momentary purposes and it all seemed to be viewed as
without any subsequent purpose. And the peculiority
about the
negro company was that they appeared to regard themselves as
isolated or out of place, as if engaged in a work not exactly in
accord with their notions of self interest, no doubt attributable to
the fact that their inclination must have been against engagtng
on
the Southern side. Their reward for enlistment I believe was to be
freedom from slavery. The life of a free negro in a slave holding
country was however not a very attractive one. He was usually
shunned by the slaves, who were jealous of him and from whom
he usually held aloof and the whites regarded him with suspicion
as unreliable and indifferent.

An incident occurred in my experience at the Capitol that may
be regarded as of particular interest. I have a portion of the
Confederate flag that floated over the Capitol, the Capitol of the
Confederacy at the fall of Richmond. When last in Richmond the
Librarian in the State Library upon my asking him what had
become of the flag, showed me a small bundle of bunting lying in
a glass book case and he said it was portions of the flag that
people had brought back and given to the Library. I told him I had
a piece but intended to retain it. Mine came into my hands in this
wise. As my father was a member of the House of Delegates
this gave me the run of the Capitol and I was intimate with the
pages in the House. On one of our

excursions through the building we went through the Library and
through a garrets above and then through a trap door onto the
roof, in returning I was last and lying on the roof, half inside the
open trap door was the flag, at the end it had a slit about one
inch long and wide and it was so suggestive that involuntarily
almost I continued the slit for the flag's entire length and tearing
the strip away, rolled it up and put it in my pocket.

At another time I ran across the Vice President Alexander H.
Stephens. Something attracted his attention to me. He regarded
me with curious interest, I presume because a little boy was
observing him so closely. His lameness and delicately drawn
features were sufficient to attract, but his small stature and
earnest, studious expression of countenance were equally
attractive. He like most of the persons I saw or met in a
prominent government relation in Richmond seemed to take the
life of these strenuous, stirring times most philosophically and in
a matter of fact way free from worry or excitement. When it is
remembered that the cannonading below Drurys Bluffs on the
James River below Richmond could not only be distinctly heard
but it was only necessary to secure an elevation and see the
distinct flash of the cannon it will be seen how close we
constantly lived to conditions of trouble. Often I climbed the
garrets of the Powhatan Hotel, where many of my legislative
friends boarded to see the flash of the cannonading.

Genl. Smith, ex-governor, "extra Billy Smith" he was called
was another interesting person I met at the Capitol. The
reputation he had acquired of kissing all the babies on his
election tours was warranted by his manner. Ease of bearing,
perfect accord with you, absolute freedom from any ostentation
were patent, no effort to lead in conversation, the friendly
utterances of an old friend all bespoke in him the consummate
politician rather than the soldier.

One of the most historical events that occurred in Richmond I
have never seen referred to in any writing. It

was after the return of the unsuccessful peace mission to
Fortress Monroe. A mass meeting was held in the African
Church in Broad Street near the Monumental Church and the
speakers were detailing to the audience the events and results of
the mission. One of the last speakers was Judah P. Benjamin,
Secretary of State of the Confederacy and one of Mr.
Benjamin's declarations was made with great vehemence that as
long as a drop of blood flowed in his veins and until the last drop
he would never surrender. It is peculiar that Mr. Benjamin was
entirely consistent in this declaration of his, because as the
Southern Confederacy faded away he escaped in an open boat
to one of the near by South Atlantic islands of England,
Bermuda, I think, and ultimately reached London where he
achieved great eminence in his profession as a lawyer and
ultimately retired to Paris where he died without ever returning to
the United States.

General John H. Morgan I saw immediately upon his return as
a prisoner from the North. He was warmly greeted in Richmond
and his gratified expression showed his appreciation. His healthy
complexion, well kept, full appearance and free from care air
indicated, that although a prisoner he had evidently been
supplied with necessaries that were strangers to the meagerly
supplied Confederate officers in active service. Genl. Morgan
was of rather more than medium size and development and
reminded one more of the bonhomie clubman, bordering on the
genial and agreeable Bohemian rather than impressing one as the
bold dashing border raider in which he had acquired his
reputation, and as which he soon after leaving Richmond lost his
life.

General J. B. Stewart, "Jeb Stewart, " who commanded the
Confederate cavalry was of a remarkable personality.
I saw him riding at the head of his cavalry in passing through
Richmond. His hair was black and long, his face was full, with
large eyes and a prominent nose, his shirt was cut low
particularly in front, showing a massive

neck. He sat on his horse the perfection of a horseman, holding
the bridle in such a way that the horse, a well kept one, seemed
to partake of his rider's intense vitality. Although Genl. Stewart
was unlike General Pickett, yet something applicable alike to the
two reminded me the one of the other and when I saw General
Pickett at the head of his command, as I did, pass through
Richmond before the battle of Gettysburg and then saw this
same command with its thinned out ranks on its return after the
campaign in which that battle took place, the contrast was so
heart rending that it was an exceedingly sad welcome extended
them. Troops were constantly passing through Richmond the last
two years of the war and the scantiness which existed in rations
to which I have already alluded, the staple fare being corn bread
and bacon, extended to the clothes of the soldiers. In a large
command for instance a brigade it was customary to see
numbers of soldiers without coats, others without hats, others
without shoes, conditions almost incredible to believe unless
actually seen as I often did. Upon one occasion while it was
snowing a brigade of infantry was marching up Main Street and
when it reached the Spottswood Hotel a hatter named Dooley
who kept a hat store under the Spottswood rolled from his store
a number of large wooden boxes, broke them open and took
therefrom a collection of shop worn straw hats which he
forthwith preceded to distribute to those of the soldiers who
were without any covering for their heads to shield them from
the falling snow. How our soldiers with all their discomforts,
privations and sad conditions were capable of doing any fighting
instead of being the brave, enduring men they were furnished a
great tribute for the Southern spirit, and the Southern cause.

General Ewell while he was recuperating from his serious
wounds lived immediately opposite our house on Marshall street
in Richmond and would daily on his crutches walk up and down
the porch. He was tall and slender and in his neat gray uniform
and with his dark

bushy whiskers enveloping a palid face his appearance was a
reminder of the suffering he had endured.

General Jubal Early was a small, active nervous man with a
curious mixture of force of character and apparent volatilness.
His most striking characteristic was unceasing restlessness. He
said nothing and did nothing that was particularly impressive, but
in a large room crowded with men with no particular deference
shown to him I was instantly attracted by the movements of one
whom I soon learned was General Early and I then understood
how he had worked out the results he had in his historical valley
campaigns.

Colonel Mosby I never saw until shortly after the war ended,
that was at the funeral of Hon. Charles W. Russell in
Baltimore. He was a man that reminded me very much of
General Early except that he was of a quiet bearing, closely
shaven, with keen eyes and an incisive manner and one could
believe how he had been successful in the many raids that had
made him famous. On one of these raids he had captured
General Benjamin F. Kelley and General Crook, two Major
Generals in the Union Army, having ridden one night with a
detachment of his cavalry through the Union lines to the Hotel in
Romani where they were staying, required them to rise, dress
and accompany him past their own troops into the Confederate
lines, the Federal troops supposing Mosby's men to be a
detachment of their own cavalry. The two captured generals
were brought to Libby prison in Richmond. Genl. Kelley had
married into a family with whom my own family was intimate and
my father when he learned of General Kelley's arrival arranged
to visit him. We took with us a large market basket filled with
eatables, such as Maryland biscuit, a boiled ham and other nice
things and after passing through the outer offices of the prison we
came into the large room where General Kelley was. I was
struck with the very small number of prisoners in so large room;
Libby Prison had been a tobacco warehouse and this one

of the large rooms of the warehouse, on the first floor from the
entrance and second floor from the rear. There was only one
other Union officer besides General Crook in the room and he
was in the open space between that and the next room. We
talked with General Kelly near the window in the rear, there
were no chairs in the room and General Crook stood off in the
middle of the room viewing us with curiosity. He had on long
boots that came above his knees, his pants being inside and one
foot was on the floor and the other, his right, resting on a box,
he was slightly stooping over with his right hand on his knee.
General Kelley called to him and he came over where we were
and after being introduced joined in our conversation. The
extreme pleasure shown by General Kelley and the interest of
General Crook at our visit was always a pleasant experience in
my life which made me follow in watching the fortunes of these
two Union officers until each passed to the other shore, the last
being General Crook, his death affecting me markedly from the
deep impression he had made on me in that interview and from
the close observation I had kept of him.

There was another prison in Richmond not so well known in
the North as Libby Prison, but was better known in Richmond
and to many Southern soldiers and that was "Castle Thunder."
That was where deserters were kept and the gentleman in
command of the prison was Captain Alexander from Baltimore.
I once dined with him and his wife at the house where they
boarded. I was a guest of Captain and Mrs. Alexander and they
had another guest about my age, Rosa, the little daughter of
Mrs. Greenhough of Washington, who after surviving a period
of confinement in the Capitol Prison at Washington almost within
the shadow of the statue sculptured by her husband had been
permitted to come South to Richmond accompanied by her
daughter.

There was still another military prison in Richmond and that
was "Belle Isle, " out in the middle of James River.

As Libby Prison was exclusively for captured officers, so Belle
Isle was exclusively for privates of the Union Army, and just as I
had been deeply impressed with the few prisoners in Libby
Prison, I was markedly impressed with the throngs of prisoners
at Belle Isle. I once accompanied my father and a number of our
soldiers to call upon one of the prisoners at Belle Isle. This
prisoner was sent for to come to the gate to talk with us. But
when he came he did not seem particularly glad or sorry to see
us and seemed to regard us with uninterested curiosity rather
than anything else.

General Robert E. Lee I met just after the war closed. He had
returned to his home in Richmond on Franklin street between 7th
and 8th, a house that belonged to Mr. John Stewart, a wealthy
Scotchman who resided at his country place on the Brooke
Turnpike and had his business office in the basement of the
Franklin street house. Mr. Stewart's family and General Lee's
wife were patients of my father. Mrs. Lee had long been an
invalid and upon the occasion of meeting General Lee I
accompanied my father who went to pay a professional visit to
Mrs. Lee. I carried with me six of General Lee's photographs
intending to ask him to sign his name on each. We were ushered
into the parlor and General Lee almost immediately appeared.
My father introduced me and then went up stairs to see Mrs.
Lee leaving me with General Lee who invited me over to a seat
on the sofa in the corner by a window alongside of him, he sitting
next to the window. Prior to sitting on the sofa however, I told
him I had brought my photographs to ask him to sign his name to
them and he took them to the dining room in the rear of the
parlor where he said there were pen and ink and soon returned
with his name signed to each and all of which I subsequently
gave away, except two that I still have. On taking his seat
alongside of me I was struck with the naturalness and simplicity
of his actions and conversation. He had a full face, clear, open
eyes, healthful complexion,

full beard of gray and carried himself in a quiet naturally dignified
way. In reply to his questions I told him I had been before the
war closed and up to the evacuation of Richmond a cadet at the
Virginia Military Institute, being the youngest cadet in the corps,
and no doubt had been the youngest that ever attended there,
being only fourteen years and six months old. He told me that he
had just had a visit from and talk with General Smith, the
Superintendent of the Institute who told him he purposed to
make arrangements without delay to reopen the Institute at
Lexington its former home before it was destroyed by General
Hunter of the Union Army, and I urged General Lee to intercede
for me with my father to permit me to return to the Institute. It
was a great source of personal gratification to me, a young boy
to have had this talk with General Lee. There is one feature with
reference to General Lee that I deem it necessary to advert to.
In some way, I know not how, it has been recognized as true
that General Lee entertained great respect and high personal
regard for General U. S. Grant. I know that General Lee had
occasion from time to time to write from his headquarters
around Richmond to my father in reference to Mrs. Lee's
condition and in one of these letters he gave distinct expression
to the views he entertained in reference to General Grant. It is
possible that these views were modified at the time of his
personal intercourse with General Grant incident to the surrender
of his army, but one would find difficulty in discovering any thing
in the incident of the surrender other then those of a negative
character calculated to produce decided changes in an opinion
preconceived of General Grant's character: and one's opinions in
matters of this sort are not usually affected by negative
influences. The views expressed by General Lee in his letter
were not those popularly accepted after the war as expressing a
high regard for General Grant, but were the views generally
entertained and expressed of General Grant by the Southern
people in the South during the war,

except that General Lee was utterly incapable of voicing the
popular Southern expression wherein General Grant was styled
in the South during the war by the Southern press and by
popular expression there, horrible as it now sounds, a "butcher"
in consequence of the apparently heartless way in which he
subjected great bodies of his troops to what appeared useless
loss of life.

In one of my interviews with Colonel Charles Marshall of
Baltimore with whom I enjoyed many years of intimate
professional relation, I stated to him what I have above referred
to, mentioning the sentiments expressed by General Lee in his
letters to my father. Colonel Marshall who had been General
Lee's private secretary during the war gave me to understand
that he knew they were the sentiments actually entertained.

Governor Letcher was the war governor of Virginia. Those
who called upon him were received in a room in the State
House at one end of which stood a large side board occupied
by decanters and glasses, a part of his Creed was to extend the
hospitality of this side board to each visitor. Virginia hospitality
required him to keep company in the partaking of the
refreshments with the result that he had a phenomenally red face,
perpetually wreathed in smiles. It can be understood that
delegations of legislators often called upon him. He also
frequently held evening receptions that were exceedingly
agreeable and very popular, although never crowded and at
one of these receptions which I attended I remember viewing
with astonishment a portly man with long black curls hanging
down his back and with him an exceedingly pretty young girl
whom I learned was his daughter. This individual was well
known in Richmond and will be recognized without further
discription
by any one conversant with Richmond life
during the
war. At the time General Hunter burned the Military Institute at
Lexington he also burned Governor Letcher's house located
there in revenge for which it will be remembered that Harry
Gilmor on his

raid into Maryland burned the house of Governor Bradford on
Charles Street Avenue a few miles out from Baltimore. This
same Harry Gilmor possessed qualities of a superior character,
for I remember that after the war when he returned to Baltimore,
with the occupation for which nature fitted him as a soldier,
gone, instead of his becoming a stipendiary on the bounty of his
friends he engaged for a while as a journeyman painter, although
no one had been raised with better rights to gentle associations
and I once viewed him with intense interest painting the front of a
house on the west side of Eutaw street near Franklin and he was
doing his work earnestly and well. With a slight natural defect in
one of his eyes, his face was entirely oblivious to the fact of
anything unusual in his occupation, a spirit of independence that
soon after led to his being elected sheriff of the City. This same
position of sheriff was also held by another returned Southerner
who had gone to Richmond from Baltimore where he had been
Marshal of Police shortly after we had passed through on our
way to Richmond. This genial gentleman, George P. Kane,
showed in every trait and manner his racial extraction and it was
no matter of wonder that he passed from sheriff to Mayor of the
City.

When the Virginia Military Institute was burned after the battle
of New Market where the cadets lost a number who were killed
and where many were wounded, the corps was sent to
Richmond. Every Richmond boy had a great ambition to go to
the Institute, at that time regarded as the West Point of the
South. The cadets were a part of the Confederate army and
every graduate was given an officer's commission in the army.
Incidents were constantly occurring to keep alive and active this
spirit to become a cadet - boys have little fear of bullets, they
enjoy the excitement of active army life and even death and
wounds appeal to them as making heroes. After the battle of
New Market one of the cadets a son of Dr. Cabell of Richmond
who was killed in that battle was

brought to Richmond for burial and his funeral took place from
his father's home on Franklin street where he lived, a neighbor of
General Lee. I remember as the remains after the service were
borne down the front steps and through the iron front gate the
intense awe and respect in the face of the young men assembled
on the pavement around the entrance to the open space in front
of the house. It was here I believe I first formed the
determination to be a cadet and strange to say when I first
entered the cadet ranks, the drill master assigned to our squad
was Bob Cabell a brother of the cadet whose funeral I had
attended that day.

The Cadets of the Virginia Military Institute were in number
about five or six hundred, were from all over the South and
ranged in age from about sixteen years to about twenty-four or
five. I entered the Institute shortly before the evacuation of
Richmond and enjoyed the distinction, as I have stated, of being
the youngest cadet in the corps. When the cadets first came to
Richmond, they marched with singularly soldier-like precision
and carriage out Grace street to the Fair grounds where they
were for a time quartered. The uniforms of the boys as also their
food began to partake of the Confederate soldier variety and it
was pathetic to see some of these boys marching in ranks
through Richmond to their quarters with pants torn or worn out
at the bottom and variegated in outfit, some with cadet jackets
and plain pants, others with cadet pants and plain jackets. The
Richmond Alms house was assigned to the cadets for their
quarters. Life there would have been ordinarily recognized as
singularly trying; to the young men in the corps it was a perpetual
joy, alloyed alone by the obligation to attend lectures. The
rooms that were a delight to them were simply unmentionable. In
my room about twelve feet wide and twenty-four feet long were
sixteen cadets who slept and studied there. In the day time the
mattresses were piled each on top of the other in a single corner
of the room - at night time they

were arranged side by side with head against the wall. One long
table occupied the center of the room. It was supposed to be a
study table and was occupied at night by a favored one to sleep
upon. In the day time it was never occupied except by the boys
lounging upon it in lieu of chairs, smoking their pipes and
gossiping. Pure atmosphere day or night in that room was not
needed by those young men with their wonderful vitality. In day
time the air was redolent with tobacco smoke from their pipes.
At night time the door was invariably kept closed by any who
were up playing cards or gossiping after the retiring hour to shut
out from view the officer of the guard, who whenever he wished
to investigate for such breaches of discipline always discretely
and considerately knocked before entering, opening the door to
find everything in perfect order. Each room had a petty officer
usually a corporal a senior who was supposed to be responsible
for the good order and cleanliness of the room. One of the
duties of this senior was to initiate by "bucking" any new cadet
introduced into his room. This "bucking", peculiar to the
Institute, consisted in taking the new comer's right hand, carrying
it behind his back, twisting it around until he was compelled
thereby to bend over when he would be struck by the senior
with a bayonet scabbard on his posterior once for each letter in
his name and in the event he was without a middle name he was
given the right to select one and upon failure to do so was given
the name Constantinople for its many letters. There upon he was
dubbed a "rat", which name he bore for one year. He was liable
to have trouble for the whole first year and might have to take
another bucking or stand up to a fight, which usually was
brought about in a formal way and was a great affair. The
corporal of our room was a mild mannered gentlemanly fellow
named Bayard of Georgia, whose father was, I believe, in the
Confederate Congress from that State. After bucking me and
permitting me to chose Asa for my middle name he dubbed me
"mouse" and stated

to me that if any one attempted to give me any trouble to let him
know. No trouble was there though for me, it was one constant
stretch of delightful experiences. The association with older boys
and men who treated me not simply as an equal but from my
youth and boyishness showed me every favor rendered my life
one of joyous ease. I was informed by the cadet whose name
immediately preceded mine in roll call of my company that any
time I wanted to get off to let him know and he would answer
twice, once for himself, once for me. I was introduced by a
friendly cadet to the apothecary's assistant who turned an honest
dollar in selling surreptitiously to the boys ginger cakes and pies
at a thousand per cent profit. I was recommended to old
"Judge", the negro head cook and steward, who black as coal
was with the boys the most popular person in the corps, but for
his favors which usually comprised an extra allowance of bread,
expected a suitable remembrancc. A room I have here
described could furnish no more than living quarters for the
number occupying it, and how any studying could be done at
night by two dull tallow candles, the only lights was inexplicable.
Toilets were performed in a general wash room, adjoining a
larger room where all trunks were kept and these two rooms
were on the same stoop or porch and a little apart from the living
rooms that all adjoined. If meagre fare contributed to good
health, the boys were entitled to the extraordinary health they
possessed with such surroundings. A typical breakfast was
"growley", bread and Confederate coffee. Sometimes sorghum
molasses took the place of "growley." This latter dish was quite
watery, being a hash of beef, potatoes and onions. A typical
dinner was boiled Irish potatoes, boiled corned beef and bread.
Meals were served in the large dining room in the basement at
plain pine tables with no covering each table seating about one
dozen. At the head of the table stood the large dish of growley
or the cornbeef and at each cadet's plate was his half loaf of
bread.

It required practice and expertness to slide one's tin plate over
the table, to the "growley" for a helping and some art to secure
at long distance the favorable disposition of the cadet sitting at
the head to whom fell the delightful emolument of apportioning
the "growley. " The half of loaf of bread was where old "Judge"
came in, for you always felt as if you wanted more. Each cadet
was furnished his own two pronged fork and a good large table
knife both of the rough bone handled variety, colored a dark
brown. This fare with undue discipline would have been
unbearable but with the free and independent life led there it was
only a pleasing passing incident in the daily routine of cadet life
constantly filled with ever recurring incidents to surprise, interest
and exhilarate and no grumbling ever took place, only high
spirits and the fullest animal enjoyment in the flush of health.

A bell rang for classes or lectures and the class rooms were a
wonder. The classes were so large that many would have to
stand up grouped together, usually near the door. Before the
lecture was finished the groups would be greatly thinned out, for
from time to time while the professor was absorbed in his work
or inspecting the black boards the door would softly open and
out would slip some member of the group who would softly
close the door and walk past the windows of the class room as
naturally as if he were on a mission, the only evidence of
irregularity being the exceedingly expert quick way with which
he vanished through the door. Another result of the large classes
was the effort to test the students by requiring several to recite at
once, as one at a time would never have reached around. This
was supposed to be accomplished by means of the blackboard,
at each of the five or six boards was stationed one cadet and the
same test was furnished to all at once. Out of the entire number
at work usually at least one knew his task well. The others made
a show of great industry and with much waste of chalk and
many changes and corrections and

with a sharp eye on his neighbor's work he managed to construct
a passable performance. The last exhibit I saw in the geography
class was a curiously drawn map in chalk outlining South
America. It was not difficult to identify the copies of various
grades and conditions, nor the original from which made. I
suppose the professor was charitable in not holding his students
to a too strict accountability. I wonder indeed how they could
do any studying with such conditions or surroundings, instead of
showing the general faithfulness that they did to their work.

As I have stated a fight was a very formal affair; while usually
originating in quite an unmentionable way it was arranged to take
place with a full regard to the proprieties. One of the sixteen men
in my room was a jew named Lovenstein from Richmond. He
was a new cadet like myself and was therefore liable to have
trouble. He had declined to submit to some indignity required of
him by an older cadet and he was thereupon challenged to fight.
This latter he had no way of escaping. It was passed around
during the day that there was to be a fight in so and so's room
that night, I got there in company with the men from our room
about half after eight o'clock the hour these affairs usually
occurred. The room was packed to suffocation, standing around
an improvised ring. The air was filled with tobacco smoke but
there was absolutely no talking or noise. In the ring in the center
of the room the two fighters were facing each other. My
sympathies were with the jew because he came from our room.
A jew in the South or in Richmond who comported himself as a
gentleman was received as such, the commercialism that
attached to the race elsewhere did not at that date affect his
status as a gentleman in the South. Lovenstein stood up manfully
to his task, with the creditable result that secured for him the
regard of the other inmates of our room and it soon became
understood that

he was to be protected thereafter and that no further trouble
was to be put up for him.

The gala performance of the day was at dress parade. This
occurred at five in the afternoon. The large plaza fronting the full
width of the Alms House furnished a fine parade ground.
Colonel Shipp, a portly, dignified impressive man who at the
time of my present writing is still at the Institution now as
Superintendent was then the Commandant, his adjutant was a
little man named Woodbridge and these two with the well drilled
corps as a whole furnished the three striking incidents of the
parade. The awkward squads consisting of new cadets were put
through simple evolutions at the same hour off from the parade
ground at each end of the building. Visitors in large numbers
assembled to watch each drill of the corps. At the close, the
cadets were at liberty to stroll off in the neighborhood for an
hour recreation, and that was liberally availed of. Soldierly
dignity was not invariably preserved in these strolls. Pent up
youthful vitality freed from restraint showed itself in rough play
and upon one occasion an older companion of mine in the
exuberance of his spirits lifted me to his shoulders and
completed his walk bearing me with him in this position until his
return to the restraining formalities of the Institute grounds. One's
introduction to the Institute was in strict military discipline; the
details of name, age, residence and the taking of the oath of
allegiance to the State and to the Confederacy were followed by
a written requisition for a blanket, mattress, knife and fork, etc.,
and an assignment to a room and company. Mine was B
Company. A sedate and dignified looking cadet named Ross
was captain, a good, old fashioned, friendly fellow named
Royston was orderly sergeant. My introduction to the corporal
of my room was through an army officer, Captain Shriver who
had recently graduated and who accompanied me and my father
on my entrance into the Institute.

General Smith, the Superintendent, was only seen by the
cadets in his private office at the far end of the building. The only
visit I made to him was quite an event in my life. Usually visits to
the Superintendent were quite serious affairs, furnishing checks
to exuberant spirits, often grave in consequences. Therefore a
notification that your presence was desired by the
Superintendent was calculated to set the heart going more
rapidly and to stir the memory for some breach that must have
been discovered. The summons to me one day just as I was
about to attend my French lecture was as unattractive as
attending the lecture. But when I reached the Superintendent's
room I found there three Confederate soldiers constituents of my
fathers and friends of my family who had come out to see me
and had secured permission for me to accompany them back to
Richmond to spend the day. An event of the day was the taking
of a photograph in a group, this with a good supply of peanuts
and a visit to the theatre furnished quite a full day for us four,
three seedy and friendly Confederate soldiers and a youthful
cadet just fourteen years old. Their request to Genl. Smith to
allow me to accompany them on their lark had evidently
appeared so unique that I was struck with the degree of pleasure
it seemed to afford him and my soldier friends.

The meagre fare made me yearn greatly to participate of the
food that I knew was being enjoyed at my home and I was not
slow in availing myself of any temporary leave I could obtain.
One of these occasions took place just shortly before the
evacuation of Richmond and upon my return to the Institute I
was greeted by an almost empty building. I found the Corps had
been called out the night before to go to the front, leaving me as
a younger cadet with a number of others as a detail to guard the
Institute. For the short time we were in charge, there was of
course no lectures and little discipline, each one could go and
come as he chose, with the result that my visits to my home
board were more interesting and in my saunters

along the streets I began to notice on the Saturday prior to the
evacuation premonitions of coming trouble. Great activity was
suddenly manifested through the various Confederate
Government departments. The Cadets at the Institute were
extended permission to remove their trunks. This was availed of
on Saturday and also on Sunday until the Institute was
practically abandoned by every one there, but was filled with the
furniture and the trunks of all the absent cadets, except of those
few who had friends to take charge of them. Besides my own
trunk I was able to care for that of another room-mate and sent
it to him by express to his home some weeks later.

On Sunday morning the 2d of April, 1865, it was apparent to
anyone that the City was to be abandoned by the Confederate
troops. Great piles of official documents and papers of all sorts
were brought out from the departments, piled up in the centre of
the streets in separate piles at short distances apart and then set
on fire to be destroyed, some few burned entirely, others only
smouldered and others again failed to burn at all. The result seemed
to depend on the quality of the paper and the density of the
bundles. From one pile I took out a roll of Confederate bonds
with all coupons attached and from another pile a bundle of
official papers of various sorts. On Monday morning the 3d of
April, I saw going up Marshall street about daylight two
Confederate cavalryman on foot who were the very last of the
Confederate soldiers to leave Richmond, on the same morning
about eleven o'clock I saw the first Union soldier to enter
Richmond he was also a cavalryman, riding up Broad street and
was near Tenth street when I saw him and was surrounded and
followed by a howling, frantic mob of about five hundred negro
boys, there being no other person except myself that I could see
on the street in the vicinity. Between these two periods, the
going of the last Confederates and the coming of the first Union
soldier stirring scenes were being elsewhere enacted. I had first
gone out to the

Institute to see how matters stood there and I found it was in
possession of a horde of men, women and children from all the
neighborhood around, who had broken open the building and
were carrying away everything movable, furniture, cadets'
trunks, books, guns and swords indeed their vandalism spared
nothing. I went to my room and was able to secure my blankets
and my knife and fork and my books. It was intensely distressing
to observe the property of the cadets who were off in the
discharge of their duty, boldly appropriated and carried off
before my eyes by these multitudinous freebooters who preyed
upon it as if it was so much public spoils free to all who chose to
help themselves. I tarried there a very short while,
carrying away with me what I had been able to save of my own
to my home. In leaving I noticed that the brick arsenal across the
road from the Institute had been during the night blown up with
such force that the fresh dirt in two graves alongside had been
blown out. They were the graves of two negroes who shortly
before had been hung on the hill to the east of the Institute,
having been found guilty of burglarously entering the cellar of the
Rev. Dr. Moses D. Hoge, the Presbyterian minister in Richmond,
out of which they had stolen a couple of hams. After reaching my
home I went down to the Spotswood Hotel at the corner of 8th
and Main streets just on the edge of where the fire was raging.
Why the Confederate troops had set fire as was reported of
them in their evacuation of Richmond I could not understand.
The fire was most disastrous in extent and in the character of the
buildings. It was in the business section; and the post office, a
granite building on Main street between 9th and 10th in which
was President Davis' office was the only building left standing
within a wide radius. Scenes similar to what I had seen enacted
at the Military Institute were also taking place on the edge of the
fire district. Stores were being broken into and looted by
women, men and boys. Barrels of flour were being rolled away,
bolts of

cloth, boxes filled with all sorts of commodities, groceries,
tobacco, etc. In the midst of this carnival of plunder a lot of
women, a half dozen in number had concentrated their attention
on a particular bolt of unbleached coarse cotton cloth and in the
contest for it had unwound it each one pulling her way, others
around were carrying away equally valuable goods ad libitum,
but these viragos ignored the ample opportunities elsewhere,
concentrating their energies on their fight for this particular cloth.
The temptation to myself and to another boy of my age with me
was so strong to incommode them in their senseless conduct that
we took small bags of tobacco from two barrels in front of a
store under the Spotswood Hotel and pelted them with the
tobacco. While thus engaged the fire gradually crept around in
the rear of Main street towards Franklin and had reached an
arsenal on 8th street for making bomb shells. Soon the shells
began to burst and pieces flew in our direction, breaking
windows and scattering the crowd, including the fighting women,
who got away with no plunder from that immediate locality.

We had spent the summer of 1863 on the James river about
twelve miles above Richmond and a visit I subsequently paid
there gave me an opportunity of enjoying an experience that can
never be repeated, namely getting out of Richmond on a
Confederate pass and witnessing some of the incidents of an
historical raid. My father had formed a personal friendship with
the family of General Winder who was from Baltimore, and as
all passes had to be obtained from General Winder who was in
command of Richmond and it was difficult to obtain access to
him at his office on Main street I went to his house and got a
pass from his son who was his aid. With this I boarded the canal
boat on the James River and Kanawha Canal which boat left
every evening at the foot of 7th street for its trip up the canal.
These boats were fitted to take a long trip, uncomfortable
though it might be. It was pulled by three horses going at a rapid
trot, the front

one ridden by the driver who blew a horn for the locks and the
mail and to change horses. The efforts of the drivers on freight
boats on these horns were often artistic and as musical as an
accomplished bugler, nothing of that sort was ever attempted by
the boy who rode the horses on the passenger boat. The
passengers in good weather sat on camp stools on the top of the
boat and a man at the end steered, at frequent intervals calling
out "low bridge" at which all on deck ducked their heads to avoid
the low bridges which so frequently crossed the canal from one
portion of a farm to another. The kitchen was at the end of the
boat. In the long saloon on each side was a seat running the
whole length, which was converted into beds at night. In the
centre of the saloon was a long table upon which meals were
served. Just after leaving Richmond the sentry came around to
inspect the passes and verify the descriptions they contained of
their possessors. He usually completed his rounds seven or eight
miles out about the time the canal boat reached the "grave yard"
an open space extending out from the canal and covered by
water in which was sunk worn out canal boats.

When ready to return to Richmond I was to do so by the
Plank Road, but the instant we struck this road we found it
blocked by heavy trees that had been cut down and thrown
across the road so as to render it impassable for horse or man,
we quickly learned that this was to intercept Dahlgren's raiders
who were then some distance up the river and were supposed to
be approaching by the Plank Road. All the neighborhood had
sent their horses out into the woods in the custody of the most
faithful of the negroes to prevent their seizure by the raiders, and
silverware and other articles portable had been concealed so that
preparations were fully made for the arrival of Dahlgren's troops.
This occurred the next day. They had crossed the river at a ford
a short distance above under the guidance of a negro of the
neighborhood who

had essayed to pilot them to Richmond and when they reached
these obstructions on the Plank Road they were compelled to
deflect their course so that they were carried around Richmond
instead of into it, and here at this point where they left the Plank
road occurred an incident that I could not understand then and
do not clearly understand now, they hung their negro guide. They
left his body hanging and after it was taken down by residents,
the rope was cut into small pieces and passed around as
mementoes. I feel assured that Dahlgren's men could not impute
to the negro knowledge of the obstructions in the road, the
circumstances enforced this conclusion. The obstructions had just
been placed, their appearance made this self evident. As a matter
of fact they had been put there during the night by parties sent
from Richmond and were entirely unknown to persons in the
vicinity. The negro guide had been picked up miles above at a
time when it was patent to any one he could not have known of
these obstructions. The slightest acquaintance with negro
character during the war should moreover have informed the
raiders that no negro would have volunteered to pilot Federal
troops with the intent of leading them into trouble, or of not
performing for them all he was capable of, and I can only
conclude that he was a victim of combined ignorance of the
negro and irritation at being intercepted in their progress. If they
had reached nearer to Richmond they would have found almost
every white citizen in the City, whatever his station or
occupation, armed and in the trenches around the city awaiting
their arrival, so that getting into the City was practically
impossible.

The Confederate hospitals in Richmond were possibly the
most interesting places for most persons. The officers' hospital
was at Richmond College at that time in the country about a mile
from the built up city, since then the City has built out to and
beyond it. The Seabrook Hospital, occupied exclusively by
privates, was a collection

of one story long frame buildings in the neighborhood of 23d
street and Franklin Street. The surgeon in chief was Dr. Gravett
with whose family we were intimate and a feature of this hospital
was the delightful biscuits made there by the cook. The
Chimborazo Hospital was another famous one. Between this
hospital and a point on the open ground across from President
Davis' residence the signal corps men every night exchanged
signals in practicing, a group of men being stationed on the hill
near the hospital with their torch and another group with a torch
on the other side of the valley in the space next the President's
house. The President's house, now the Confederate Museum,
was one of the prettiest houses in Richmond. The president met
with a sad loss there in the death of his son. At the time this
occurred some one started a subscription among the children to
erect a monument to the memory of the child and the names of
all who subscribed were written on paper, it being also there
written that the monument was a gift from the playmates of the
boy and the paper was placed in the monument erected over the
grave at Holywood. My name was included, but I am sure that
scarcely one in the entire number was in fact a playmate of the
boy who was so delicate that his only companion was his nurse.

The most interesting sights were the fortifications around
Richmond. Out on the Mechanicsville turnpike about two miles
beyond the Alms House was the inner fort on the North, this
was manned by a battery composed of Norfolk men under
command of a Captain Hendren, two deserters from the Union
Army were placed in this battery. They were treated in a most
friendly way by the men, but they seemed out of place
themselves and awkward and strange. Why they should have
deserted I could not understand, for an exchange of the ample
fare of the Union soldier with their luxuries for the cornbread and
bacon of the Confederates could not have been an attraction.
This same pike while the Battle of Cold Harbor

was in progress presented an intensely interesting appearance,
clear from Richmond to the narrow Chickahomini River and
beyond, it was lined with soldiers, horses and wagons hurrying
to and fro and one of the most attractive sights was the stream
of Union prisoners just captured and being marched into
Richmond. One prisoner I recall as a common type, he was a
German emigrant utterly unable to speak a word of English,
dressed in a new Zouave uniform of guady
colors and he
evidently labored under the delusion that he was going to better
his condition by exchanging from a fighter in the Union army to a
prisoner in the Confederacy. I believe if he had had any
conception of the restrictive diet of the prisoner or Confederate
soldier, for both fared about alike, he would have been less
easily captured, and the bounty and substitute money that no
doubt had been securely disposed of by him at his enlistment
were going to look less alluring in a Confederate prison than the
future these pictured to him while he enjoyed his exceedingly
brief army experience.

The most interesting fortifications were on the James River at
Drury's Bluff about seven miles below Richmond, and a sort of
an excursion steamer enabled visitors to inspect the
fortifications. In the neighborhood of Drury's Bluff further down
the River was the Howlett House, historical for being at various
periods first in the Confederate lines and then in the Union.
Upon a visit I paid to it in Company with Col. Herbert of the
17th Virginia Regiment and the Rev. Mr. Perkins, the Chaplain,
we obtained a magnificent view of the surrounding country and
of both armies, our own and the Union. Dutch Gap was in the
distance and Butlers Tower was in front of us and down on the
river shore below us were thousands of shells that had been
fired by the Union batteries and had failed to explode. In
returning from the Howlett House to the station of the 17th
Virginia, sharpshooters in the Union lines began firing at us and
the bullets threw up the dirt around us in a lively fashion. I feel
convinced the

sharpshooters were trying to see how near they could come to us
without hitting us, my companions however preferred to get
down below the raise in the ground. The same spirit of play I
think must have actuated the batteries that were continually firing
shells that went clear over the fortifications and way behind,
possibly a mile or so. The fortifications were constructed in a
very formidable way. The front of the raised earth was a
labyrinth of brush and sharpened stakes pointing outward. Inside
of the fortifications were deep ravines cut in the earth, turning
and twisting with pillars of earth at intervals, so as to permit the
sentries to approach the breast works without exposure.
The quarters of the soldiers were usually dugouts, covered with
raised wooden tops. The sleeping bunks were below the ground
and each location had a fire place, one of my nights was spent in
one of these with a corporal of one of the companies of the 17th
Virginia. His room mate was absent. Before entering he handed
me a copy of David Copperfield and this was my first
introduction to the delights of Dickens' works. The corporal also
offered me a flour biscuit, the only one he had; as I knew the
meaning of it to him I declined. During the night we were
aroused by a night attack at the front a few hundred yards away,
which compelled my room mate to go there. I had never heard
so many bullets whistle overhead before and the sound was
more intense from the stillness of the night, the attack, however,
was of short duration.

The most interesting scene in camp life was the church service
on Sunday night. The soldiers were in winter quarters and a
good sized frame tabernacle had been erected with seats around
on boards very much like a circus. The auditorium was
crowded, of course exclusively with soldiers and a more
impressive service and a more deeply interested and serious set
of men I never saw. The two opposing lines, Confederate and
Union, had been so long fixed at this point and they were
respectively so securely intrenched that matters looked quite
permanent and these

conditions led to interchange of friendly relations between the
two sides leading to exchange of newspapers, tobacco, etc. The
slenderness of the Confederate soldiers equipment was
constantly in evidence and the contrast with his bounteously
supplied enemy made his situation often pathetic. Upon one
occasion during this visit of mine to the 17th Virginia the
quartermaster's wagon came around to dole out a few articles
and among the things given was a cotton shirt to a middle aged
member of a Norfolk Company which excited the jealousy and
anger of a young man in the same company who declared that
the older was not entitled to the shirt and did not need it and that
he had money hidden away. The scarcity of food in Richmond
several times led to distressing scenes, resulting in some
instances to public riots, in which women seemed to take the
leading part. Their outcry for bread gave to these affairs the
designation of "bread riots" and several of a very serious nature
took place during the closing years of the war resulting in
considerable destruction of property in an effort on the part of
the mob to break into stores and resulting also in great suffering
and excitement before the disturbances were quelled.

It was an experience not possessed by many to have seen
from time to time pass through Richmond the Confederate
soldiers that composed the entire army of General Lee. Added
to this however it was my fortune after the war to see the entire
armies of General Grant and General Sherman pass through
Richmond on their march to Washington. They all passed one
point where I was stationed, namely, at Broad and First streets
on their way up Broad street and out the Brook Turnpike. There
were three features that were prominent in connection with these
Union armies, one was the well dressed, well kept appearance
of the soldiers, another the vast number of their bands of music
in marked contrast with scarcely any in our army and another
the great number of horses the cavalrymen possessed, some had
three and four horses

each, and I concluded that the South through which the Union
armies passed, must have been pretty well denuded of its
horses.

After the war the President's house was used as head quarters
for the general in command of the Union troops in Richmond.
And as my father was the only Homeopathic physician in
Richmond and very many Federal officers with their families
preferred homeopathy and employed him I had favorable
opportunities for knowing certain things about which some
confusion subsequently existed. This knowledge enabled me to
correct a statement some years since that was circulated
extensively through the public press with reference to General
Lee. It had been declared by General Adam Badeau that
immediately upon the close of the war when General Lee
returned to Richmond he and his family were the recipients of aid
from General Grant who practically provided for the support of
General Lee's family. I knew all the circumstances which gave a
plausible foundation for this story. My father, as I have stated,
was Mrs. Lee's physician; he was also the physician among other
Federal officers of General Peter Michie, the Federal
quartermaster general. An offer courteuosly and with delicacy
was made to General Lee of any aid the temporary situation of
his family might require. General Lee however was under no
necessity of availing himself of this aid and none in consequence
was given. General Lee had devoted friends, able and willing to
render any aid that might have been needed to whom he would
naturally have looked for aid had such been required. He was at
that time, as I have stated, living in the house of Mr. John
Stewart, a wealthy Scotchman who had settled long before the
war in Richmond. Whatever may have been the arrangement for
rent I understand that Mr. Stewart declined to accept anything in
settlement, and as a Scotchman can not be made to recede from
his position no doubt no rent was paid.

One of the incidents to the rehabilitation of Richmond after the
evacuation and the accompanying disastrous fire was the great
influx of mercantile firms from the North with every kind of
goods imaginable. Why they should have rushed in thus with
their oceans of merchandise to sell to impoverished
Confederates was to me a mystery. As might be imagined prices
fell very low and large numbers of the new comers failed
completely. Another incident of the new order of things was the
flooding of the City with counterfeit money, particularly small
notes for fractional amounts of a dollar, some of the counterfeits
being wretched productions. Another feature was the way in
which architects and builders from the North stepped in to help
rebuild the burned district, resulting in better buildings than
before, but with in many cases no commensurate profit to the
builders. At that time was first introduced into Richmond the
ground rent system that prevails so extensively in Baltimore and
Philadelphia. The first house under this system was built on a lot
where had stood the house from which salt orders had been
issued during the war. The salt mines belonged to and were
worked by the State and a system of free distribution was
inaugurated in consequence of the scarcity and the necessity of
salt so that each householder depending upon the size of his
family was entitled to receive gratuitously a certain quantity
weekly for which an order was issued to him.

The most gruesome sight during the war was to see the vast
numbers of wounded Confederate soldiers brought into
Richmond in the trains. This was constantly occurring and was
most noticeable during the great battles in the neighborhood of
Fredericksburg. The attention given to the wounded appeared
to be scant before reaching Richmond. And they were brought
down on the Richmond and Fredericksburg Railroad and
unloaded on Broad street to be taken to the hospitals very much
as they were taken from the field of battle. How they were
able to

pass through the suffering they must have endured before
reaching the hospital was a miracle, only to be accounted for by
the life of exposure to the open air, endurance and their strong
vitality.

Blockade running was carried on as an extensive business all
through the war, but reached its highest state of accomplishment
in the closing year before the fall of Richmond. It was of a two
fold character; one, of ships with Wilmington, North Carolina, as
the port and the other of individuals who crossed the Potomac at
night usually landing at Leonardtown, Charles County, Maryland.
The ships took out cargoes of cotton, as this was about the only
article, unless it was tobacco, left to be exported from the
Southern Confederacy and they brought in return a miscellaneous
cargo, not very extensive and not very large, most of the cotton
shipments winding up as credits abroad in many cases for agents
of the Confederate government, in other cases for individuals,
either singly or as syndicates. For it became common in
Richmond for a number of gentlemen to form a combination and
make a shipment of cotton by a blockade runner for the profit it
furnished. Almost all the ships that ran the blockade in and out of
Wilmington flew the British flag and were English boats,
Blockade running on the Potomac was another consideration. Its
ordeal can best be illustrated by an attempt made by my mother
and a friend of hers under unusual favorable circumstances. The
trip from Richmond to the Potomac had to be made by private
conveyance of some sort for there were no public vehicles or
way of getting them and for entertainment en route reliance would
have to be placed on such friendly housing and entertainment as
could be secured from the inhabitants of the country through
which one passed. There were no hotels or taverns, and as the
inhabitants were not over well supplied, were in constant
apprehension of the questionable strangers who made a business
of blockade running, it can be conceived what difficulties must be
encountered by

any one who adopted this method of passing through the lines. It
would have been easier perhaps to have gone by a flag of truce.
A well known Southerner who is now in a prominent position in
New York City had attention attracted to him by two
occurrences that took place in his younger days. He was a
general in the Confederate army and he resigned and joined the
army as a private, that was quite sensational. Again he went out
one day in front of the outer line of breastworks near Petersburg
to exchange newspapers or some other thing as was the custom
during the interims of fighting and two soldiers from the Union
lines came out half way to meet him. When they reached
midway between the breastworks on each side each Union
soldier took him by the arms and marched him into their own
lines. That was more sensational still and was susceptible of
several constructions. The incident subjected him to undoubtedly
unjust criticism and the true construction was that the Union
soldiers had violated the conventional arrangement under which
the beligerants
exchanged small articles, but it
indicated that the
Union side were not averse to "receiving" all that came and that
going by flag of truce would have been less difficult on the Union
side than on the Confederate and that persons on a peaceful
mission, particularly ladies need not have selected the hardships
of a Potomac blockade running to have gotten through the lines.

My two sisters had been left North to attend school on my
father's exchange as a state prisoner and my mother's mission
was to visit them. My father's official and professional relations
secured for the trip from the Confederate government a covered
ambulance, two mules and a colored driver. They were also
supplied by personal friends with letters of introduction to
persons at whose houses they expected to stop on the route to
the Potomac. The trip was to occupy about three days and the
point of destination was as usual opposite Leonardtown,
Charles County, Maryland. The first day was spent in a tiring,

uninteresting ride over bad roads and the day's journey
terminated at the hospitable house of Muscoe Garnett near
Newton in King and Queen County at whose house I
subsequently spent a delightful summer, the next day's journey
similar in character terminated at the equally hospitable home of
the Warings on the Rapahannock River in Essex County, where I
also some years after visited. The third day's journey, just like the
two proceeding, brought them to the Potomac in Westmorland
County at the Wirt House. The following day arrangements were
made for effecting a crossing of the river and this was termed
"running the blockade." Success required the trip to be at night,
without moon or stars, with good weather and smooth water, a
rather difficult combination where the river was several miles
wide and Union patrol boats constantly on the lookout for
blockade runners. At the appointed time, with conditions
satisfactory, their boat cleared the shore, when suddenly the
moon came out, a patrol boat was made out in the distance and
the sail boat was compelled in consequence to return, with no
further chance of success that night. After several days of waiting
and constant unwillingness on the part of the boatman to make
the venture, in which at every attempt, he ran the risk of losing
both his boat and his liberty, they were fain to abandon the
attempt, this being a common experience in blockade running.
And they were compelled to return again to Richmond.
Successful blockade running across the Potomac was usually
done by two only, the boatman and one passenger, usually a
man, a woman blockade runner added to the difficulties and
lessened a successful issue. Two women would constitute almost
insuperable difficulties and it had better been left unattempted. It
was easier to go by ship from Wilmington to Nassau, the usual
rendezvous of blockade runners and then from that point by a
ship to New York; for blockade running in and out of
Wilmington was common and easy.

While personal travel through the lines was as shown difficult
and full of excitement and trials, communication by letter was
easy and frequent. This was by way of flag of truce boat. Every
letter however was opened, read and stamped as inspected and
if it was free from suspicion and about personal matter only it
reached its destination. Any suspicious circumstances however
such as ambiguity of expression, or anything of hidden meaning
which might convey information regarded as detrimental to the
government subjected the letter to oblivion.

After the war closed the condition of the Confederate graves
in Hollywood cemetery was so deplorable that a general call
was extended to all ex-Confederate soldiers in Richmond to
volunteer to put them in condition. At the time appointed great
numbers assembled at the Cemetery for the purpose, including
very many old cadets. Each particular division of the graves had
a certain number assigned to it and there fell to the cadets a plot
in the lower ground comprising several hundred graves. Each
one of the cadets was furnished a hoe and the task that at once
confronted us was how we were to distinguish the precise
location of each grave. None of these graves were marked and
all any of us knew was that wherever there was any indication of
the grave, there had been placed the remains of a Confederate
soldier. It seems to me that however loving our motive, we had
better left undone our volunteer task, for all the workers in
common solved their difficulty in identifying exact outlines of
graves by raising at regular and even intervals the little mounds
that were supposed to cover the places of interment, so that if
any indications previously existed as to the precise location of
any grave whereby some one familiar with the surroundings
would have identified it, these were effectually destroyed by this
service in putting in decent order the burial places of the dead.
And it was utterly impossible thereafter to tell the exact resting
place of any whose grave was unmarked, the condition of very
nearly all.

One of the most disastrous results of the war was the effect
on the education of the men of the South. With few exceptions
all the young men at college or school old enough to volunteer
did so, with the resulting loss of four years of the best period of
their life for studying. At the close of the war, the necessities of
some were such that providing for themselves or their families
effectually removed from them the possibilities of further
education. Others again struggled under most adverse conditions
and with many privations to acquire the requisite means to
complete their education, working on farms and engaging in
manual labor that always theretofore had been relegated
exclusively to the negro slaves. In many cases the period for
accomplishing the result dragged on for years after the close of
the war and even as late as 1871, six years after the close of the
war there was in the same law class with me at the University of
Virginia a number of ex-Confederate soldiers and among the
nineteen of us who received the degree of B. L. were two, one
of whom had been a Captain and the other a Major in the
Confederate army.

The condition of the ex-Confederates residing in the country
was measurably better than those in the cities and towns, for the
former could at the least scrape together in one way or another
some sort of a living. In the towns and cities however through
the South the struggle to obtain a footing was more intense, and
among the methods adopted to furnish employment to
ex-Confederates was one of almost national character involving
what was then regarded as a very large capital with prospects
supposed to be brilliant both in furnishing extensive employment
for competent men and securing great financial returns for its
promoters and subscribers, and that was the establishment of the
Southern Express Company. General Joseph E. Johnson was
made president of the company and almost every officer and
employee from the highest to the lowest was an ex-Confederate
soldier. These two

pleas, employment of ex-Confederates and great financial
returns, particularly the former were the basis upon which the
subscriptions to the stock were generally secured. An additional
incentive was that only a small cash payment (usually ten per
cent of the subscription) was required from the stockholders.
The balance it was supposed would likely be made up from
profits. From the start liberal salaries were paid and assiduously
drawn. Nearly all the transportation business was done on
credit, the railroads and transportation companies being
exceedingly liberal in this, with the rapid result from inexperience
in such business and competition against an old established
company and its skilled employees, that the Southern Express
Company soon ceased to do business, owing a vast amount of
debts to its employees for unpaid salaries and to transportation
companies for unpaid freight. The sequel resulted in an
assignment by the company for the benefit of creditors and an
administration ot its assets in the Chancery Court of Richmond,
where the stockholders were assessed their unpaid
subscriptions, resulting in a crop of suits to collect them that
extended through many states of the Union, particularly Virginia,
Maryland, Missouri and New York.

The war had a very slight effect on the negro's character as a
slave in the South, so far as he was capable of comprehending
and entertaining any sympathies, most of the slaves had a vague
idea that success to the Union Army meant freedom for the
slave and hence naturally they felt no ill toward this result, neither
did they entertain ill will towards those who had held them in
slavery, for contrary to the general impression of the North the
negro slaves were treated with the greatest consideration, not
harshly, but just the reverse. Any master who omitted to
properly clothe and feed his slaves, to assiduously care for them
in sickness and old age and to treat them justly and humanely
was not only ostracised by his neighbors and acquaintances but
his family suffered seriously

in social positions so that no slaveholder was to be found who
could weather the trials to which an acknowledged brutal master
was subjected. This tenderness for the slave was so pronounced
that all persons who occupied a dominant position with
reference to him, such as the overseer or slave dealer were
regarded as occupying an inferior position and were excluded
from social relations with the slave holders, not from an imagined
superiority of the latter, as sometimes alleged, but purely from
the "offensiveness" of their occupation. And I believe it can be
said with the endorsement of all who knew that the negro as a
whole was better cared for, and healthier and happier in slavery
than in freedom.

The hotels in Richmond that remained in operation clear up
until the evacuation by the Confederate troops were the
Spotswood at the corner ot
Main street and 8th street,
the
American on Main street opposite the Post Office, and the
Powhatan at the corner of Broad and 11th streets. The
Spotswood was the leading hotel and there the higher
Confederate officers stopped when in Richmond. It was burned
shortly after the war closed. The American was a popular hotel,
well patronized by Confederate soldiers, officers and men, and
always crowded. It was burned in the fire at the evacuation. The
Powhatan was patronized to a certain extent by Confederate
soldiers, the generality of its patrons were members of the
Legislature.

Of course society entertainments in Richmond during the war
partook of the nature that pertained to everything else. They
were exceedingly few and such as took place were novel or
unique in character. When a city of the staid and fixed character
like Richmond increased its resident population in a few months
from sixty thousand people to one hundred and twenty thousand
or more, the newcomers being largely refugees from all parts of
the South, together with Confederate officials and their families,
also from all over the south and when in addition this new
element furnished very much of the life of the Confederate

capitol it may be comprehended what was the result socially.
Overhanging the city was the constant menace and stir of the
great conflict. So that while entertaining constantly took place, it
was unobtrusive and exceedingly simple. The most elaborate
receptions were those at the Governor's Mansion simple as they
were. The more prominent given by any private individual was
by a well known and wealthy merchant where the refreshments
consisted exclusively of ice cream and pound cake. The usual
and popular method of entertaining were what might probably
now be styled evening, not afternoon teas; in place however of
the elaborate refreshments which might now be expected to be
found at such was then really served tea, then a rare and
wonderful luxury. In addition to the tea served in cups and
handed around to those sitting in the parlor was also served
buttered bread, very seldom cake; it being remembered that
white sugar was also a great rarity in war times. I attended a
wedding of the daughter of one of the most prominent gentlemen
in Richmond. There were no refreshments and there were no
presents whatsoever to the bride. I do not think there was at the
close of the war a single jewelry store in existence in the City.

One of the most remarkable features of the war was the
intense animosity engendered among neighbors with sympathies
on opposite sides. Those who were formerly most intimate
friends now became most bitter enemies, not only ceasing all
intercourse, but ready to inflict contumely and injury on each
other. This spirit was not so apparent in the South because with
almost unanimity the Southern people accepted the results of
secession whatever opposition they may have first offered. But
in the North on the border line where there was a numerous
Southern element within the Northern lines this bitter antagonism
was pronounced, the more so against all known to be in
sympathy with the South. No more typical place existed for this
than Baltimore. In the towns and cities of what is

now West Virginia the same conditions existed. From Baltimore
and Maryland large numbers had gone South to engage in the
service. Besides these associations with the Confederate soldiers
from Maryland very many of whom came from some of the
wealthiest and most prominent families of the State were the
business and social ties that had grown up between the South
and Baltimore as the Southern metropolis, so that with few
exceptions the leading people of the city were in sympathy with
the Southern cause. In many cases confiscation of the property
of those who had gone south took place, confined of course
under the Constitution to the life of the party affected. In other
cases arrests were made under the smallest pretexts, all sorts of
persecutions little and great were indulged in towards the
Southern sympathizers, espionage being one of the numerous
annoyances. Relationship whether near or remote seemed to
make slight difference, and it seems now almost impossible to
account for the bitterness engendered. Of course material
interests were originally responsible, and no doubt the divergent
views over whether the state should or not secede, with the
results that would affect such material interests and the high pitch
to which the contentions over the master wrought up the
advocates pro or con were the causes that led to the bitterness
that existed. The Southerners were styled "secessionists, "
"rebels", "traitors", "copperheads", with the soldiers however a
Southern soldier was always "Rebel" or a "Johnny Reb". The
favorite popular ballad commenced something like "W'll hang
Jeff Davis on a sour apple tree." In the South on the other hand
there was but one name for the Northerner and whether soldier
or civilian he was invariably called "yankee". Deep down in the
Southern heart however there was no recognition of a social
relation with neighbors of Northern sympathies and for some
years after the war ended I knew of instances of Southern
women, who in marrying Union army officers were regarded not
only as having impaired

their social status but as having done an act to reflect upon their
own family standing. And at the close of the war, in Maryland,
particularly in Baltimore, there was a distinct spirit manifested to
seduously ostracise socially those who had been active in
espousing the Union cause during the war. And as equally a
generous welcome was extended to all who came from the
South. It seems almost inconceivable to those of the present day
not aware of the bitter antagonism existing during the war that
such could ever indeed have exited. To illustrate what would
occur on a slightest pretext: In some way it was suggested that a
Confederate flag was harbored in our house. The provost
marshal sent a company of soldiers who surrounded the house,
while the Captain and a guard accompanied by my father
searched every portion of the premises from the top to the cellar
with a perfectly fruitless result. Again three paroled Confederate
prisoners called upon my father to be extended some assistance
pecuniarily. This he unhesitatingly extended to all needy
Confederate prisoners who called upon him, and while talking
with these three word was conveyed to the provost marshal that
a seditious meeting was taking place in his house, resulting in a
provost guard being sent who placed my father and his visitors
under arrest, to be quickly released, however, as soon as the
matter was investigated. The smallest pretext and barest
suspicion of disloyal sentiment or act led to invasion of the
sanctity of one's house and an interference with one's business or
professional duties.

But with all the sectional antagonism, the women of Southern
sympathies in Northern communities wrought out results that
showed their disregard of militaryism; for they were
unsparing in
their work to help the Southern prisoners. No prisoners with an
acquaintance of a friend among the women was allowed to
suffer for clothes or luxuries and to help the large bodies of
Southern prisoners in Northern prisons, sewing societies were
formed

that met regularly at the members' houses where all kinds of
clothes needed by the prisoners were made up. These meetings
which I often attended were a delightful experience. A vast
number of pretty girls and young married women all actively
engaged in sewing and cutting out, exchanging experiences and
information and each occasion to be wound up with light
refreshments.

A topic of constant discussion is the effect of the war so far as
the negro is concerned. I have seen the negro in slavery before
and during the war and now a freedman for forty years since the
war closed and I feel that I am capable of expressing an opinion
upon the subject. As a slave he was generally well treated, and
was generally contented and happy. He was usually free from
care or responsibility, all his wants being provided for by his
master. He had a task to perform and the performance of it was
exacted of him, sometimes this task was exceedingly light, it was
scarcely ever severe. It was natural he should wish to be able to
essay or not to essay this task as his humor suggested to him and
the wish for this I believe was the principal incentive for freedom
to most of the slaves. Very many I believe gave the matter of
freedom no consideration and cared nothing about it. When the
close of the war brought freedom to the vast body of those who
were slaves their reasoning suggested to them as it did to very
many of the less informed whites that the war had been fought
purely to free the negro. The corollary to this in the mind of the
negro was that they were the equal of the whites, and
immediately upon the close of the war the teaching inculcated
among themselves with greatest assiduity was the matter of
equality. During the lapse of forty years however the question of
equality has in a measure worked itself out as it always does
dependent upon personal and material factors. When persons
occupy grades of servants, laborers, mechanics, storekeepers,
merchants and professional men the question of color in that all

are black will notput
them on an equality one with the
other and
the question of equality is not helped by trying to extend the
equalizing so as to put the colored man whatever his condition in
life on a level with the white man whatever his condition. This
was a struggle so patent in the case of the freedmen immediately
after the close of the war that was bound in the course of years
to disappear from the hopelessness of it. The result is that from
my observation the negro has measurably been battered after the
many years that have elapsed since the war, so that now his
deportment and manners are better, he is more honest and he
has not deteriorated as a worker and he is getting nearer to the
deportment he possessed before his character was disrupted by
the harmful teachings of those idealists in the New England
States who professed before and during the war to be his only
true friends.

There was one restriction upon the negro in slavery that was a
great source of trouble to him and that was the existence of the
law which forbade absence from home after dark except upon a
written pass furnished by the master or his agent, any member of
the family as a quasi agent, even the children could give these
passes, and I have often given such. Absence without such pass
subjected the slave to arrest and detention until morning when a
trial took place in the Mayor's court, the penalty being the public
whipping post. This was about the only occasion a slave in any
well ordered family was likely to be visited with a whipping,
which was then a legal penalty inflicted by public authority for a
violation of the law. And such whipping was very apt to arouse
indignation on the part of the master and certainly his family
between whom and the slaves there always exited a bond of
affection as well as material interest. So far from whipping slaves
by the master's authority not only did self interest forbid this, but
as before indicated this was recognized as one of the acts of
maltreatment which resulted in loss of social

status to any family that was known to so deal with their slaves.
A tender regard for slaves was so assiduously exacted by public
sentiment in the South that it was accepted as a serious reflection
to sell one. I have frequently read accounts of the awful slave
pens and jails where slaves being sold were detained until a
purchaser and new master was found all of which accounts are
purely mythical written by dreamers with vivid imaginations and
no actual experience. I have been again and again in these houses
of slave dealers where slaves remained pending a sale. The last
one I visited was in accompanying my father for the purpose of
purchasing a cook. All of those present, some twenty-five
women, were called to the large front room and they ranged
themselves in line. Every one was neatly dressed and showed in
their appearance and demeanor unmistakable signs of kind
treatment and being well cared for. Thinking people reading such
accounts must see instantly that outside of any sentiment of
humanity good business policy required the best treatment at
such places. The slaves were sent there to be sold and the best
price was wanted and that price was to be obtained only when a
good impression was made on the purchaser and it was made
alone by the appearance of the slave. To secure a healthful
appearance and indications of a good disposition and
temperament required good treatment, and the disposition and
temperament was so carefully looked after by a purchaser as
health and ability to work, for it was recognized that most slaves
came to slave dealers' hands because the previous master had
found some trouble on this score of disposition or temperament
this being the single exception outside of failure in business when
an owner felt justified by public opinion to make sale of his
slaves.

The life on a large plantation for a negro slave was an almost
ideal life. Each plantation of from about five hundred to several
thousand acres with its several hundred slaves was a perfect
community in itself. Every trade

and occupation necessary to the effective running of the
plantation was represented. One of the slaves was a skilled
blacksmith and wheelwright, another a competent carpenter, still
another a shoemaker and so on through, out the list of utilities. In
the order of dignity and preferment the house servants came
first. There were plenty of them in every household and the work
assigned to each was exceedingly light, they were dressed well,
ate the same food used by the family, were well trained both
mentally and morally, participated from the ties of interest that
bound them to the family in its pleasure to a greater extent than
could have been experienced by hired servants and in sickness
or trouble were cared for with a tenderness no less than would
be shown to a favorite child. Next in the order of regard came
the coachman, the gardener, the assistant overseer, who was
always a slave; indeed all whose duties brought them more
especially in frequent contact with the whites, on the plantation.
Then came the field hands, both men and women, and no
happier lot of human beings in their work could be found than
were ordinarily these same people whatever might be the task to
which they were assigned. I have been with them in hoeing corn,
in cutting wheat, in threshing grain, in curing tobacco, indeed in
every work which went on and I speak from my own personal
experience in stating as I do the spirit with which they worked.
Every provision was made for their well being, self interest of the
master, independent of dictates of humanity, and pressure of
public opinion required this. The negro quarters were sufficiently
far from the house to permit of the pleasures that appealed to the
negro heart without the noise disturbing the white folks. Each
negro family usually had a cabin, ample and comfortable, with a
garden attached in which was raised vegetables and the hours of
field labor were such as to leave ample time to cultivate this
garden. Rations of staple food were served with the same
regularity and provisions for health and comfort

as in army life. They were supplied with ample clothing. Whether
in health or sickness and from birth to death the care of his
slaves was the first regard of the slave owner, and an exception
to such was not tolerated in the community. The family bible of
the master's family first contained the births, deaths and
marriages of the members of his family, then in the same bible
followed exactly similar entries with reference to his slaves.
The members of his family became the instructors of the negro
children in Sunday school work. The adult negroes were given ample
opportunity and encouraged to attend religious meetings. The negro
slave was indeed without a care or anxiety for his comfort or welfare
from the time of his birth to the period when he was tenderly laid
away in the plot set aside on every plantation for the negro burial
ground.